


To Have and To Hold

by Tarlan



Category: CSI: Miami, Chasing Cain (2001)
Genre: Drama, Hewligan, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-13
Updated: 2006-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 17:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bud is serving a small jail sentence in Miami and asks for protection from another inmate, Mike Sheridan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Have and To Hold

Horatio looked on from the back of the courtroom as Mike Sheridan was led forward for the jury's verdict having been accused of committing arson. He could see Sheridan's abused girlfriend sitting in the row just behind the defense table, looking worried and yet supportive as she tried to gain Sheridan's attention. Horatio felt a cold burn inside his chest from knowing he could do little to help her. Part of him wanted to see Sheridan go down for a long time, sort of karmic justice for the abuse he had meted out to his girlfriend but, despite Horatio's personal grievance against the jealous and abusive man, that crime was not on trial here. Sheridan had chased his girlfriend into the everglades, using a flare to light his way but dropping it when he fell. However, he had not intentionally set that fire and no one had died as a result, although Horatio had ensured the injuries to Delko and Alexx had made it onto the prosecutor's list of charges. Of course the added benefit, which the defense used to great effect, was that if Sheridan had not accidentally started that fire then they would not have found Sandy Willis and, eventually, brought her serial killer to justice.By rights, Sheridan should get away with a misdemeanor and a fine.Sure enough, the verdict supported the evidence but Horatio nodded in satisfaction when Sheridan was handed the maximum jail sentence of one year, knowing the minor injuries to his people had justified that result. He took a final glance at Julie Bryant, hoping she would make good use of this time separated from Sheridan to make a better life for herself.  
Perhaps that was more silver lining from this case.

Julie cried out in distress as Sheridan was led away but Horatio noticed that Sheridan did not spare a backwards glance, still treating her with the casual disdain that bracketed their relationship. A nod to Boa Vista, who had stood silently beside him as sentence was passed, set her in motion and he sighed as she handed over a card to Julie, one offering her salvation - if she was willing to take it. Julie's eyes flicked up, catching his. He nodded and turned away. It was up to her now. As for Sheridan, Horatio hoped that a year behind bars would be the rude awakening that he needed.

***

Julie's cries echoed through Mike's head as he was led away to start his sentence but Mike was too numb to care. He had come to Florida for the chance to make a fortune, hoping the sea air would be luckier than the dry desert of Las Vegas. He had forced Julie to follow him as always, hating the thought of her out of his sight because she was a damn whore. Twice he had caught her in *their* bed with other men when she was supposed to be his girl, turning tricks to feed her drug habit. On both of those occasions, he had lost his temper and lashed out with his fists, and he was not particularly proud of that but the rage consuming him had been overwhelming. Both times, she had come back to him, and he had given silent thanks as he tried to make it up to her, wanting to alleviate his guilt with small gifts and warm embraces. If he didn't love her so damn much then he would have dropped her months ago.

Mike knew people like Lieutenant Caine could never understand how much it hurt to be used and still crawl back for more; how hard it was to walk away from someone who made you feel so special in between the bad times. Of course, Caine had seen the ER records and immediately blamed Mike for every visit, never considering that she'd had her fair share of beatings from abusive 'johns'. If he had not been responsible for two of those beatings then he might have objected but the guilt gnawed at him, and who was Caine to judge him anyway?

A year.

Perhaps it was for the best even though he was terrified of what he would find inside having heard too many stories and seen too many drama shows depicting prison life. Perhaps this was his chance to make a clean break from her, to stop allowing his life to revolve around her needs.

"Don't show any fear," he murmured to himself as he was led onto the transport bus, still chained like an animal. At least his crime had not merited detention at one of the major institutions and perhaps it was some perverse sort of justice that he'd been sent to a road camp instead. Mike could already envisage spending his days cleaning up the Florida highways; picking up trash from morning to night.

His first misconception was put to rest as he followed the guards into a large room housing dozens of beds in an open dormitory, having expected to be shoved inside a two-man cell. He sighed and dropped his few belongings onto the bed allocated to him, already wondering what it would be like to spend the night surrounding by maybe a hundred others, all snoring and whimpering in their sleep.

The first night went slowly, with his mind too caught in his predicament to gain rest but, by the time he fell into bed on the following evening, after a day out in the sun picking up road trash, he was too exhausted to care.

When he awoke on that second morning, Mike took a quick glance around and froze when he realized he was the being watched by the man in the bed on his right. The guy looked around the same age as Mike even though his hair was thinner on top, with deep blue eyes peering at Mike in curiosity and a mouth that turned down on one corner. He raised that corner into a lopsided smile and stuck out his hand.

"Bud O'Toole."

Mike took the offered hand after a wary moment and gave his name in return, and frowned when Bud spoke again.

"So...What are you in for?"

"Are you sure it's wise to ask?"

Bud gave a little half-laugh. "They only put minimum risk prisoners here...prisoners with low sentences or who are due out in a less than three years. You only arrived the day before yesterday, and you didn't look like you'd seen the inside of a prison before so I kind of guessed you're in for a misdemeanor, like me."

"So what did you do?"

Bud raised his eyebrows at having his question thrown back at him without Mike giving him his answer first.

"Oh... Causing a disturbance." Mike raised an eyebrow in confusion and gained clarification. "It wasn't the first time."

"Disturbance about what?"

"Anti-abortion demonstrations outside a clinic in Miami." He grinned, and it was a pleasant smile that made his blue eyes sparkle. "They tried to pin a murder on me once but...no brainer. Committing murder kind of defeats the object of being Pro-life."

"Yeah." Mike smiled back. "It does." His smile faltered. "You're not from around here either."

"Canadian."

"Ah. Don't they have some extradition laws, or something?"

"Probably...but I'll be out before they finish cutting through all the red tape."

Mike nodded. It made sense that if his sentence was so light then he might as well serve it out here. Bud pushed the glasses back up his nose from where they were slipping in the beads of sweat on his face. With no decent air conditioning and the heat of so many bodies, the dormitory was just on the brink of becoming uncomfortable. Around him, men were already starting to move in preparation for another hard day's work. Mike picked up his towel and soap before heading towards the communal showers, shrugging when Bud hurried to catch up with him. When he arrived, he'd had no plans to make any friends in here but now he realized he was stuck here for the better part of a year, even with early release on good behavior, and Bud seemed harmless enough.

By the end of the shower, Mike was having second thoughts because it was obvious that Bud was too soft for prison life, even in a minimal security place such as this. Several others tried baiting Bud as he showered next to Mike, with one making extremely overt suggestions concerning the nicely rounded ass on the man. Mike had to admit that, for a guy, Bud did have a nice ass but it was not Mike's job to protect it. He waited until they were both dressed and sitting on their respective beds before he spoke up.

"Look..."

"Please. I know what you're thinking...that I'm high maintenance in a place like this but I thought, maybe if I had a couple of people watching my back rather than my ass then I might... I only have six months to do... tops."

Mike gritted his teeth. This was how he fell in with Julie, caught by the 'wounded bird' act, and he wasn't sure he was up to playing the same game here inside. He made the mistake of looking into the wide, pleading blue eyes and reading the fear haunting them. His expression must have given away his resignation to his fate because those eyes shone again as he was treated by a relieved smile.

"Let's get one thing straight." Mike grated out in annoyance. "I'm not going to interfere with the taunts and simple touching. That's just painting a bull's eye on my own ass...but if anyone tries to get a little more intimate then I'll try and dissuade them."

"Okay...and in return, I work the kitchens so I can save you some of the good stuff."

Mike smiled, suddenly seeing an upside to this 'relationship' as he thought of the way all the decent food had gone by the time he made his way through the chow line.

***

Mike had expected the months to drag by and was amazed when three months passed without him really noticing. In that time, Julie had only visited him once and, in retrospect, he wished she hadn't bothered. Without him providing for her needs and helping to pay for her drug habit, she had cast her eye around for someone new. He was not surprised when she casually brought up the name of her new guy in conversation but he was surprised by his lack of anger where before he would have been enraged. He really didn't care less anymore and realized that much of it had to do with his newfound friendship with Bud.

The man was interesting to be around, full of ideas and beliefs, and he was exceptionally skilled with his hands, making tiny models that fascinated Mike. With Mike he was open and warm but Mike had noticed how Bud clamed up around others, sounding offish and maybe a little icy. He understood why, recognizing the defense mechanism that kept most people at arms' length. Others still taunted the soft-spoken Canadian, especially in the showers but Mike had only needed to step in once, when one guy got a little too friendly, Mike's possessive glare sufficient to make the other guy back off. Bud had passed him an extra large helping of dessert that evening, which more than made up for the inconvenience of people believing he was more than just friends with Bud.

When the guard yelled out for him, telling him he had a visitor, Mike sighed in irritation. Only one person knew or cared that he was in prison and he really had hoped Julie had moved on completely. No doubt her latest man had tired of her quickly and she expected him to pick up the pieces but, if he had learned one thing from being here, it was how to curb his anger. He just hoped Bud would save him something edible form the chow line.

It seemed too churlish to refuse to see his visitor so he gave Bud a half-smile and slapped his leg before pushing up to follow the guard. The visitor room was set up like the dormitory, open planned except with desks spread apart through the room, a single chair on each side. Several other people had visitors and he could see them trying to keep their conversations private, leaning forward on the table as far as they could without attracting the attention of the guards stationed around the room. Mike frowned as he could not see Julie, only to be nudged onwards towards the set of private rooms used for conjugal visits. Strangely, the thought of spending time in a conjugal room with Julie did not appeal in the slightest and he almost turned away before he reached the first open door. Another nudge had him stepping over the threshold but this was an interview room rather than what he had expected. He caught sight of a red-haired man standing by the sealed and barred window, looking out across the facility. When the man turned, Mike recognized him immediately.

"Lt. Caine. Come to pin another murder on me?"

Caine had the decency to look a little chagrinned but then he motioned towards the seat closest to the door. "Julie Bryant is dead."

Mike grimaced. "I have an alibi."

Caine gave a soft huff of something akin to amusement, though his pale blue eyes appraised Mike carefully.

"According to our records, she visited you only once. In the first month."

It was a statement and yet it came across as a question that Mike felt obliged to answer. "Well, I couldn't support her lifestyle from behind bars so she found herself another mark."

Caine leaned forward on the table, eyes hard. "Three months ago, you chased her into the everglades in a fit of jealousy and now you don't seem to care that she's dead. Why is that, Mike?"

Mike refused to be intimidated and leaned in. "Three months ago I thought I loved her, and catching her trawling for dick to pay for her expensive drug habit when she was supposed to be vacationing with me kinda hit a raw nerve."

Caine raised both eyebrows in surprise. He pushed upright and stepped back towards the window, taking a cellphone out of his pocket and hitting a speed Dial. "Alexx...talk to me about Julie Bryant."

Mike could only hear one side of the conversation, which was annoying but the expressions crossing Caine's face as he glanced back at Mike told him more of the story. Eventually, Caine signed off, pushing the cellphone back into his pocket. Some of Bud's innate honesty compelled Mike to talk.

"Look...I'm sorry about Julie. I really am, but I was the least of her worries when she was with me. I'm not saying I was a pleasant guy but I wasn't the only one who used his fists on her, and let's just say I had my reasons for being angry on both those occasions. I was just the only one who'd take her to the hospital afterwards." Mike looked down at his knuckles, guiltily recalling the impact of his fist against her flesh. He had attended Anger Management sessions regularly over the past few months, trying to come to terms with his jealous feelings, though the long talks with Bud had also helped him find some inner peace. "I'm not exactly proud of the black eyes I gave her, but I never broke a single bone in her body. Just answered her calls for help when some john got too rough, and paid for her hospital treatment until she'd bled me dry." Mike looked back up. "When she came that time, she was full of it. Had the audacity to apologize for selling my car and all my stuff to feed her habit."

"You know what?" Caine sank into the seat opposite Mike. "I believe you."

Mike felt a prickle of tears and looked away. "Yeah."

"Did she mention any names?"

Mike weighed what he recalled from that one-sided conversation against the way Caine had treated him when he thought he had murdered Julie, knowing Caine probably influenced the prosecutor into convincing the Judge to give him the maximum allowable sentence. Perhaps it was Bud's influence again but he felt less antagonistic towards the lieutenant. "She said his name was Ken...if that helps."

"It may just help. Thank you."

***

Bud was sitting on his bed next to Mike's when Mike returned to the dormitory. "Heard your visitor was a cop."

Mike slumped down on his bed, too drained from a hard day's work and the tough interview with Caine to bother trying to pretend that everything was cool. "Same guy that put me in here." The silence stretched and Mike knew Bud would not push for more but he felt a need to share the news with someone. "Julie's dead."

Bud looked aghast but Mike expected that reaction from him, knowing how much he respected all human life, even that of the scum who taunted him from time to time when Mike was not around to protect him.

"How?"

"He didn't say and I didn't ask."

"I'm sorry." Bud looked a little nervous. "If you want to talk about it?"

Mike laughed softly. "In truth, I feel okay." And he did feel fine apart from a lingering sadness because he had put Julie behind him months ago and though he did not love her anymore, he still felt sorry for her.

***

Their first kiss was unexpected, more a brush of dry lips for show than a romantic and heated gesture of intimacy. One of Bud's more persistent pursuers had questioned Mike's role of protector and this spontaneous kiss was supposed to scotch the rumors the man had started that Bud's ass was both pristine and up for grabs.

On its own that kiss would have convinced no one but the tingle of pleasure zapped straight to Mike's groin and, judging by the flush coloring Bud's cheeks, the feeling had been mutual. Their second kiss followed closely on the heels of the first, except this time their lips lingered together, tongue tips sneaking out to tentatively lick and taste.

It had been too long for both of them. Months of frustration and suppressed desires, unable to even masturbate unless they were willing to put up with an unwanted audience who would pretend sleep but listen in to every soft gasp and low moan, stripping away any pretense of pleasure.

Involuntarily, Mike's hand tightened on the back of Bud's head, palm cradling the base of his skull, feeling the silky strands of fine hair sifting through his fingers. His other arm wrapped around the broader body and reeled Bud in closer until they were pressed against each other from thigh to chest, lips crushed together. He could feel the heat and steel of Bud's erection, hard against him, aligned beside his own rock-hard flesh, and Mike barely contained the urge to rock his hips and add to the insistent, desired pressure, desperately wanting the friction and the tantalizing promise of a glorious release.

Bud broke the kiss with a low sob, pulling back with blue eyes wide and dark with desire and mortification. Mike fought the desire to follow him back, to capture his lips once more and force a greater intimacy upon the man, wanting nothing more than to sink down to the bed and slake his need with Bud. The silence surrounding them brought Mike back to the here and now and he looked over Bud's shoulder to stare hard at the man who had forced this show of intimacy. His fellow prisoner gave a wry half-smile and a slight nod, and then turned away.

No one bothered Bud after that display, finally conceding that Bud was already taken, and Mike spent the remaining weeks of Bud's sentence wishing he had drawn Bud down to the bed and tasted more than just his sweet lips.

They parted on another hot day that promised to be no different from the day before, except Bud would not be there when Mike returned from trash pick-up. Most likely, he would not be in the same country let alone the same state because the courts had made it pretty clear that once Bud had finished his sentence, he would be deported back to Canada.

"I hear Canada's an okay place."

"Better than okay. It's beautiful. Lots of places to hide away from the rest of the world."

"I've never been to Niagara Falls."

"I went once as a kid. Went on a boat under the falls and there was this walk along the Niagara River. It was a good day."

Mike grinned. "I'd like to see the falls."

"Perhaps I could show them to you?"

"Yeah." His face fell. "Though it might be some time before I'm allowed to leave the country. That's if the Canadians will even let me in."

"Oh, it's not like you murdered anyone here...just a misdemeanor." Bud looked sad and serious all at once. "I'll write...and you can tell me what's happening here and when to expect you."

Strangely, Mike knew this was no idle offer set to appease him. He knew Bud meant every word and, perhaps more weirdly, he wanted this too. They clasped hands firmly but Mike could not leave it at that, not when the tantalizing scent of the man and the echoes of coming loneliness grabbed at his senses. He reeled Bud in smoothly for their third ever kiss, holding nothing back as he explored every part of the hot mouth, wanting to imprint the taste of Bud into his mind and body. They were both panting heavily by the time they parted, holding each other's eyes until the last minute as Mike turned the corner to start of new day that could never be just like any other day here because Bud would not be waiting for him when he got back.

***

**Six months later:**

The roar of the falls drowned out almost all other sound but Mike did not need his ears, only his eyes. He recognized Bud instantly, his heart hammering in his chest as he wondered if Bud had changed since he last touched him. One look into brilliant blue eyes alleviated all his fears, seeing them sparkle with joy at their reunion. He felt strong arms wrap around his waist and melted into the joy-filled kisses that literally stole his breath away.

A few hours later, Mike had no doubts left. He had spent the past six months thinking about Bud, recalling his touch and the sound of his voice but nothing compared to having the real, living man in his arms and in his bed. It did not matter that he had never slept with another man before, had never held another man so closely, had never rubbed himself against another man's flesh so keenly because, to Mike, Bud felt like 'coming home'. He was everything Mike had always wanted, an attentive lover who sought Mike's pleasure as much as his own, and a friend who wanted no one but Mike.

He recalled the soft moans and cries as Bud moved against him, the way his hips had canted and rocked, trapping their hard erections between their bellies and holding on so tight until Mike felt the flood of warm ejaculate between them, answering it with his own ecstatic release.

Afterwards was a different kind of pleasure, of sated bodies and rumpled sheets, of soft murmurs and gentle kisses, and the feeling of being wanted just for who he was rather than for what he could provide. Mike knew it would be so easy to fixate on Bud, to put him on a pedestal while he placed a chain around his neck to bind him only to him. He knew he could love Bud with a passion that went beyond reason, jealously guarding his lover and hitting out at anyone who tried to pull them apart, even hitting out at Bud just as he had struck out at Julie. Yet he knew deep down inside that Bud and Julie were not the same kind of people. Bud was no drug addict using him to provide the hits he needed and going elsewhere when the money ran low. Bud wanted him on a far deeper level, asking silently for the type of commitment Mike had craved for all his life, someone who loved him unconditionally, and honestly.

As Bud's breathing softened into sleep beside him, Mike realized that gender really had no say in any of this, that it was so unimportant compared to the actual person holding his affection and his love.

As he began to drift off with Bud snuggled against his side, Mike thought of Julie and her needs driven by her drug habit, and then he thought of Lt. Caine and his need to see justice prevail. He still felt a lingering sadness over her brutal death but recognized how her murder had bought his early freedom. Caine had recognized the truth once he took off the glasses that blinded him more than the sunglasses that shielded his eyes, and when the time came to face a parole board, Caine had been there to testify for his early release. This might not have helped him reach Bud sooner because a condition of his parole was that he could not leave the country, but it had given Mike enough time to rebuild a little of his life so he had something of value to offer Bud. Not that Bud would have minded if he had turned up destitute and penniless.

Mike breathed in the scent of Bud, and of their love making, letting the heady scent of male sex wash over him even as he tightened his hold on his new lover. In truth, they needed each other, and desired only each other, and that was more than enough to ensure Mike's future happiness.

THE END


End file.
